Expressions in Verse
by DarkMoonChylde
Summary: If live and love could regularly be described in verse, this would be the perfect example. Never had they imagined that their lives would intertwine in such ways; yet here they are, in danger, in the creed, and in love. SLASH! Based on 10 drabble meme
1. Super Ezio and The Invisible Man

10 Song Drabble Meme

_Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like._

_Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle._

_Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterwards!_

_Do ten of these, then post them._

…

**DMC:** I cheated, and I did one longer drabble for each song, instead of just during the song and writing, I listened, wrote, listened again, added more, and repeat. However, I started out doing it right! Then I got into some good ideas that I liked and felt I wanted to add more to it! I only had one section of my music open, but none the less, it provided me with ten good songs for the fandom I am currently Rampaging through… ASSASSIN'S CREED! Anyway, this is a one shot done simply to get my spark to write back as I crank out another installment of WOTE.

I found this idea quite fun to do, and I might expand on a story or two as time goes on. Not sure yet, might just write a whole other story. We'll see.

Anyway, without further ado, Song Drabble Meme!

Oh wait!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Assassin's Creed 1, 2, or Brotherhood. They belong to their respective owners, whom of which I bow down to for some of the most AMAZING games I have ever played. So please don't shoot me as I butcher their characters and make them all fluffy and cute with yaoi-ness. :D (I'll try to stay as on character as I can though)

**Warning:** This is slash! You know lemon, yaoi, Shounen ai, fluff, and all that Jazz or so which you call it, so don't get all mad at me when you come to find it is and you don't like it, I warned you ahead of time and if you don't like it you can leave. I gave you warning. So you don't like it to bad. Flames will go ignored and be deleted. They are a waste of my, and your, time. They are not helpful, and I do not care. Like I said, DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ! Also, there will be some language in here, so if you don't care for it, I'm sorry.

…

**Super Boy and the Invisible Girl –Next to Normal**

_Pairing: Shaun and Desmond_

He is well known to have a firm gait, presenting himself always upright, sturdy and assertive. His deep brown eyes were always strong and firm, always looking forward and straight at the person he is talking to, whether they can see his eyes or not. Under the assassin's uniform the male had a wonderful physique. He was muscular, though not overly so that he was bulky by any means. They were simply, in the right place, letting all who saw know that he was strong, and well cared for. He was slender, tall, and handsome all in one package. Dark hair adorned his head, usually pulled back into a pony tail that rest at the nape of his neck, matching his dark eyes.

If guys could regularly be described as elegant, with a sturdy undertone, Ezio Auditore De Frenzie most defiantly would be. It's almost scary how powerful he could be when he tries, with the soft side to boot. It almost overshadowed his descendant, who did possess a remarkable resemblance to him. This caused for some great upset in the youth.

Every day Desmond found himself returning to consciousness after spending his time reliving all Ezio had done in the past, trying to find answers for his team. Every day Desmond found his team pouring themselves over the man, wanting to know all they could about him. Lucy would because she not only wanted to find the Piece of Eden, but because she found him handsome. Rebecca would because she needed to make sure all his memories were perfectly synced into the Animus. Even Shaun would, wanting to figure out more about history that he didn't already know, wanting to help the Assassins against the Templars, and to fill his desire to record everything into his mind that he could fathom.

So when Desmond found himself waking from the Animus to the whole group looking over a profile of Ezio with great interest, he couldn't help but feel… well… Invisible. Not only did people of Ezio's time fall over themselves about him, even in Desmond's time they did.

Jesus, without Desmond, they wouldn't know as much about the Assassin as they do now!

Letting out a sigh, he ran his hands through his short hair, pushing all the memories he had just previously relived from his mind. He needed to forget them and return to the real world. The world that would probably take Ezio over him any day.

Who wouldn't, after all? So many times the team nearly died having to pack up, move and save his sorry ass. If he were really Ezio, more than just in memory, but in body and soul, everything would be better. Sure, the bleed through effect did make him slightly like the other male, strong and capable, however, he still wasn't Ezio; and that's what they needed.

Pushing off the Animus, not caring to heed the warnings Lucy normally gave about taking his time to stand up from the long time he had been unconscious, he turned and stalked from the room, deciding it was best to get some fresh air, he couldn't be around the others right now.

Upon stepping out into the cool night air, he felt himself relax a bit. The cool night air caused his cheeks to twinge and flush slightly as he shifted about, adjusting his hoody to make sure he was warm. He would never hear the end of it if he got sick and couldn't lay in the animus for a while.

"He's like some sort of Superman," Desmond muttered softly as he stepped further out of the Villa, towards the edge of the cliff where the broken wall that he had done a leap of faith from, the moment they got there, to get them a path inside. "and I'm simply invisible past that. He's a hero, a lover, practically a fucking prince and I'm nothing more than the amateur with the memories." Sighing, he wondered how he let his thoughts ever get this angsty on him. He usually spent his life upbeat, used to just doing things quickly, dealing with crap that was thrown at him, and continuing to smile. After all, he had been a bartender, he had that happen to him a lot. Letting his mind drift, he wondered if it possibly came from the time when he realize that, under all the bickering and snappy comments that Shaun would send to him at all hours of the day and night when he was conscious, the red head was still desirable. That, even with all the hateful things the male said to him, Desmond found himself desiring the male. So when the other wouldn't bat an eye in his direction, but spent all hours of night pouring over everything that was Ezio and his time, he couldn't help but feel jealous and left out.

"So you are going to throw yourself over a cliff because a long since dead womanizer is getting more attention than you?" Came an accent filled voice from behind him, startling him as he had not been aware that anyone had followed him out, or even noticed his disappearance at all. Turning around to face Shaun, he felt his stomach do a flip flop as the male glared at him. "As much as you might be doing us a favor by killing yourself, please refrain from it till we are finished saving the world."

Feeling his already flushed cheeks grow warmer, Desmond tore his eye away from the historian and to the ground muttering "I wasn't going to jump."

Looking back up at him he raised an eyebrow "Why are you out here Shaun?" he asked suddenly, curious as to why he of all the co-workers, had come after him.

Rolling his eyes Shaun stuck his hands, that were growing steadily cold, into his pockets. "Looking for you asshole. People do worry when our most important guy disappears on us." He said with a sneer as Desmond sighed. What had he expected? Shaun would come rushing after him because he was worried about him, why he had taken off, and making sure he was okay. Genuinely concerned about the male, not simply doing his job.

"So why are you out here Desmond?" Shaun asked, his voice softening a bit. He had originally chased after him because they didn't need him dying on them and when he found him and saw the expression that adorned the male's normally cheerful face, he had felt a pang of pity. No, pity wasn't the right word for it… more of… compassion.

Desmond didn't speak for a moment as he gazed out over the cliff, away from the Brit behind him as he thought about how he could phrase everything he had been thinking without sounding like some stupid child. Not like Shaun saw him as anything but a stupid child.

"Ezio is like some god. He was perfect in practically every way, something that everyone wants to be, especially other assassins." Desmond began, obvious hesitancy tugging at his voice "doing this, living this way, as a descendant of him, I am forced into the animus every day, dealing with feeling all his pain, all the wounds and jumps and what not he does; reliving his memories for you guys… for the good of the world… It keeps him alive, even now."

Shaun raised an eyebrow at this as he kept silent, willing Desmond to go on, instead of butting in with comments about how Desmond was acting like some jealous child and should just shut up and get back inside. However, he felt all his thoughts, even his heart, stop when the assassin spoke again.

"Then there is me…"

"Desmo-" Shaun began but was quickly cut off as Desmond turned around to face him, his face expressionless and his eyes distant. Since when had he become so sad?

"Everyone wishes he were here. They need his memories for the Piece of Eden, and also, he is a much better assassin than I am, and it would be so much beneficial to everyone if he was here instead of me, so they wouldn't have to get into so much danger all the time. So _you _wouldn't have to be in so much danger all the time." He dared to venture to say before he continued "No one ever wishes I was there, and as much as it sounds stupid, like I'm some child, I can't help but feel jealous. I can't help but feel like I want to belong. And if I can't belong, then I just want to disappear from here, fly away from here so you all could go about your lives like nothing was wrong outside of your normal templar concerns."

He could feel his heart begin to race as he stared at the male before him, looking at him through his glasses like he was completely insane. He debated on wanting to say everything he felt. After all, what better time to confess than right now? It was completely insane, but he couldn't help it. Besides, Shaun would probably call him something harsh, tell him to grow up, and go back to work like nothing was wrong. So why not go for it?

"I mean, I see you, every day, pouring over the man who was my ancestor, wanting to know everything about him and, even if you may not want to know him in _that_ sense, I still feel jealous." He could hear himself rambling, and how he knew Shaun hated that, but he couldn't help it. "You sit there at your computer, with this determined look on your face. The one where you never break eye contact with what you are looking at, even when your glasses slide down the bridge of your nose, and you bite at your lower lip, which I can't help but find completely adorable, and you just watch him; this god-like figure, move about his day. I want to pull you away, tell you to please look at me. Look at the invisible one behind you who has looked at you so much when I am not unconscious that I know everything about you, and you never even take a second glance at me. You only look at Ezio."

There.

He said it.

It was out in the open, well sort of, that he liked Shaun.

He watched as the historian before him start laughing and he could practically feel his heart break at the thought of he was doing something stupid and now Shaun was laughing at him for it. As Shaun ran a hand over his face, removing his glasses in the process, he sighed contently. "You are so stupid Miles." He said before returning the glasses to his face so he could look at the other male clearly. "You don't think people notice you?" he asked, his voice growing softer as he let his hand drop to his side, stepping forward as he did so.

"Don't notice that when you are Ezio and you perform a leap of faith, your face lights up, as if you are enjoying the feeling of flying through the air? Don't notice that when you get up from the animus, a tuft of your hair sticks out to the side until you do your usual run through with your hands? You think people don't notice that you rub your scar on your lip when you are bored, almost as if testing if it is still there? Desmond, you are thick. I notice this stuff." He muttered; his voice soft now as he stepped even closer to Desmond, who was looking at him with wide eyes.

"You are not invisible." He dared to let himself whisper before he gently grabbed Desmond's chin and press his lips to the male's soft, scarred ones.

All at once, it was like he was performing the leap of faith again, and Desmond felt himself light up; his heart glow.

He wasn't invisible after all.

…

DMC: wow, that turned out much longer than I planned! None the less, I like it! Sure Desmond was a bit angsty and what not, but I thought it fit well with how much everyone is always like Ezio this and Ezio that. :) What do you guys think of it? Please review!

Off to post the second song now!

Ciao!


	2. Returning to something wonderfully new

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Assassin's Creed 1, 2, or Brotherhood. They belong to their respective owners, whom of which I bow down to for some of the most AMAZING games I have ever played. So please don't shoot me as I butcher their characters and make them all fluffy and cute with yaoi-ness. :D (I'll try to stay as on character as I can though)

**Warning:** This is slash! You know lemon, yaoi, Shounen ai, fluff, and all that Jazz or so which you call it, so don't get all mad at me when you come to find it is and you don't like it, I warned you ahead of time and if you don't like it you can leave. I gave you warning. So you don't like it to bad. Flames will go ignored and be deleted. They are a waste of my, and your, time. They are not helpful, and I do not care. Like I said, DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ! Also, there will be some language in here, so if you don't care for it, I'm sorry.

Song two!

…

**Song of Purple Summer – Spring Awakening **

_Pairing: Ezio and Leonardo_

…

It could barely be heard, the soft, gentle sound of life being lived fully. Life being lived freely, no longer in worry of Cesare Borgia reigning over them with terror. However, it was there as it drifted through the city and reverberated along the trees, playing amongst the turning leaves. It rustled the water making ripples dance about in an unseen wind while the musical sound drifted by. It caressed the withering stones and benches that were over gown with vines and deteriorating with age. The town that currently lay before a certain dark haired assassin was one that was quaint and slightly old, but beautiful all the same.

He was knelt down outside a brick building, back to it, to face the road where a few horses passed every so often and an elderly man who lived on the streets attempted to weave through people. The black and silver hood was pulled up, covering his face from view. All that was visible of the man was his body. It showed a slender man with long full legs showing he must work out a lot. His hair barely passed his shoulders, maybe at most mid back, but even that was a stretch, was neatly pulled back into a small plait at the name of his neck, that curled slightly as it descended down, making it look almost braided.

The man was handsome to say the least, and at last… the man was home.

There was something disturbingly familiar about the back of the man heading down one of the alleys in the sight of the assassin, currently perched upon stair railings Ezio thought as he tried to calm his insides down. His heart was racing in his chest and his mouth felt dry from anxiety. If his eyes hadn't been playing him a trick, he couldn't miss this chance. He quickly got up and leapt from the withered stone and after the male. He spotted the light brown haired man down the street when he rounded the corner, the male so familiar yet such a stranger, and dashed after him.

As he was just behind the painter he hesitated a second before he grabbed his wrist in his big hand and pulled him, into another alley out of sight, a quick attack from behind. The alley was empty and narrow, dirty. An old cat ran away as they entered,

It was obvious that the assassin had startled the man, but upon the realization of who he was, Leonardo couldn't resist throwing his arms around his old friend again. "Ezio! It's been so long my friend, how are you?" he asked as he looked at the other Italian. Still as handsome as ever in the artist's eyes.

Looking at the smaller male, Ezio smiled brightly as he took his hood down to reveal his face as he thought about how the painter was still as handsome as they day he had left. Things have changed about him though. He was a bit older, more developed then he remembers, though it was not a bad thing by any means.

The painter took him by the hand and pulled him down the alleyway out to where he was going. "You have to meet my new apprentice." He said excitedly as he let his hand go, trusting Ezio to follow him. Of course Ezio would follow him, like a loyal dog to his master; he followed closely behind him, every so often brushing against the male, acting as if the crowd was forcing them to walk that close, though really just enjoying their brief contact.

He never really understood his attraction to the painter. After all, he loved women; loved everything about them. However, something about him always drew him in. It wasn't like any other man did this to him. He could look at anyone else, even those people that are claimed to be overly handsome, and never feel the same. So he figured that it had to just be Leonardo.

When they entered the studio in which Leonardo lived Ezio looked around and couldn't help but chuckle. The room was cluttered, with papers strewn all over the place, paint staining various spots all the way up to the large bed, in which a male sat, shirtless, reading a book about art. Leonardo beamed at him upon entering and receiving a smile, and Ezio froze in place.

The male, the blonde, was handsome, fit, and young. From the way he was lounging around the small space, it appeared that he was much more than just an apprentice to the painter. This caused a frown to form on the assassin's lips before he took a step back.

"Excuse me Leo, I just remembered that I needed to go speak to Cesare." He said, just throwing out a name, not really thinking about who he was talking about, or what he was saying as he turned his back on the scene and quickly left the apartment. This startled the other male, who stared off after where he had taken off to before he quickly followed.

"Ezio." He called as he looked for the finely dressed male in the crowd, finding him dart up the side of a building with strength beyond the normal human body. Assassins were trained that way after all, and it was a wonder to him every time he saw the male climb away. He was always so strong, physically, mentally and emotionally. That was one thing that had attracted the man to the other, after all, one was a killer, one hated the thought of it.

"Ezio! Wait!" he called out after him as he took off running, trying to follow him from below as he pushed past people, not really looking at where he was going. It all passed by so fast, the feeling of falling. It was something that Leo did not like, but he knew, the moment his foot touched the edge that he was doomed to fall into the water below. However, a hand had grabbed him around the waist and pulled him back quickly.

Gasping, Leonardo looked up at his rescuer and peered straight into the dark eyes of the male who had been fleeing him only moments before.

"I will never let you fall" He muttered to the painter softly, as the painter watched his beautiful lips move carefully. It had been kind of a double meaning to Ezio. One was that he would never let the painter get hurt, never let him fall down without someone there to catch him, physically and emotionally, and then the idea that he would never let him fall in love with the apprentice. It was completely selfish, but Ezio didn't want him to be with anyone else.

Smiling, Leonardo nodded "I never will so long as you are here mi angelo," he said softly as he carefully rose to standing on his tip toes and placed a kiss upon Ezio's lips ever so gently. When they finally parted Ezio couldn't help but break out into a smile

"welcome home."

Never once had Ezio felt like he belonged more than he did at that moment. However, the other male sitting in Leo's bed concerned him and he ventured to ask about it.

"Nothing has happened between us." Leonardo informed him as he broke from Ezio's grip as he turned, with Ezio following closely, to walk away from the place that had nearly caused him harm. "He is simply my apprentice. He models for me on occasion, but that's about it. Since he had no where else to go, I allow him to stay in my shop since I am hardly in there anymore." This caused the assassin to raise an eyebrow. Never in a million years would Leo leave the shop without good reason to. So hearing that he was hardly there anymore was concerning. Was he involved in something again like had been with the Borgia? Surely not, but what else could pull the painter away from his precious art works?

"I got a new shop and apartment up town." The brunette explained to his concerned companion as they walked. Ezio couldn't help but smile at this, his friend and possible lover had finally begun to make a name for himself other than a name that he had with Cesare. Grabbing his hand he stopped and pulled him into him carefully, letting his other hand snake around the small of his back.

They fit together perfectly, the tall built one with the smaller firm one. Ezio could feel it, and he knew that Leo would too. The male had always been extremely observant. "So I have you all to myself?" he asked with a sly smile. Everything had changed since he had been gone, but so far, everything had been changing for the better. When the painter nodded with a smile, Ezio grinned "I love you Leo you and only you. I may not understand it, but I'll be damned if I don't say it" He muttered before kissing him deeply, the other male kissing him back with just as much passion.

And yet I wait  
the swallow brings  
a song too hard to follow  
that no one else can sing

And all shall know the wonder  
I will sing the song of purple summer.

…

DMC: So the ending was kinda crappy, and it turned out really cheesy, and Ezio was a bit pouty, but I guess it works. I will post the third song tomorrow, it's late here and I have class tomorrow morning. Good night everyone!


	3. Up Against The Wall

DMC: Hello all, sorry it took so long for me to post the third song! I kept getting caught up in a million things today. Soon as I had a second to breathe, something else would come up and I would be stuck with something new to do. Good thing I had all the songs written down though, or else I would have forgotten which songs I had pulled out for the challenge!

Anywho, this one is a song from N'Sync. Before you say anything about that, I KNOW! I didn't even remember having them on my ipod but I must have put them in when I was putting all the CDs I own on there (good lord that's a lot by the way) and when it came on I gave a fan-girl squee. I haven't heard them in forever, but I remember being a huuuuuge fan, so I just had to keep it!

Don't worry, for all you Altair and Malik fans out there, there will be songs with them!

Till then, enjoy!

…

**Back Against the Wall- N'Sync**

_Pairing: Shaun and Desmond_

…

As it got later in the cool, fall day, Shaun had decided that he needed a break. He had been pounding his head full all day at the library, allowing himself time to relax. However, even though he did enjoy the information he came upon, after so long, it just started to feel like work again, and that was never as much fun.

Wandering down the road slowly, deciding it was best to walk so he wouldn't dare venture far from his domain, he didn't really have many choices of where to do for dinner. Bar, strip club, bar, bar, old person's buffet who's food was not even edible for those who had long since lost their sense of taste, club, bar… guess there was only one option. The buffet! Chuckling softly to himself, the historian shook his head and marched into the nearest bar, thinking some munchies that the bar provided and some nice alcohol would make him feel better before the night's end. After all, bar life always had a story to tell.

Music beat out of various hidden speakers throughout the bar playing a song that was unfamiliar to the male. Though the concept of unfamiliar songs was not a complete stretch for the Brit since he had never really cared for the music Americans played on their radio. People mingled about the area, dimmed to allow for a bit more intimacy, all drinking and having a good time.

Had the place been even slightly bigger, it could have passed as a club, the way a couple of people would dance when a new song came on that they recognized. Sure some tables and chairs stood in the way of the party goers, but none the less, they tried. Heck, at one point, one person had even tried to get onto the bar counter and dance, only to be pushed off with a broom by the male standing behind the counter, mixing drinks and smiling lightly to himself.

Upon walking up to the oak countertop, Shaun had spotted the male. He was not hard to miss after all; tall, dark hair clipped short and neat, deep brown eyes that watched the room carefully as he worked. He was so in control and knew the drinks so well, that he only needed to look down at his hands occasionally to double check he was doing it right. He was dressed nicely, a white button down shirt that was neatly tucked into tight black jeans, a black vest with a silver chain hanging out of one of the pockets. It was any wonder that people were hitting on him as they ordered drinks.

Shaun grinned as he thought about that, how pathetic they all were before the other made eye contact with him and flashed him a smile. "Be right with ya." He said before he turned his back to him to grab a bottle of vodka from behind him. Nodding at his back, Shaun took a seat on one of the high stools, looking around some more as he waited.

"So, what can I get you?" came the bartender's voice as Shaun turned around to face him. The bartender ran his thumb over the thin scar that cut across the left side of his lips, as he smiled and leaned against the counter towards the man.

Adjusting the sleeves of his shirt, the Brit thought for a moment and shrugged "Beer please." He settled upon, his own accented voice carrying over the music to him. Nodding he reached under the counter to pull out a beer bottle and cracked open the top before sliding it towards the historian. "Not from around here?" he asked casually, trying to start up a conversation.

Shaking his head and taking a sip of the beer, Shaun watched the other move about, filling another order that had approached the bar behind him, almost shoving him off the stool in his drunken process. "I moved her a while ago, but I am from England originally, hence where the accent comes from." He said, almost sarcastically as he trailed off at the end.

Nodding the bartender opened him up another beer, since Shaun's was getting to be about half empty and he didn't know when he would get the chance to get him another as his name was called. "Excuse me." He said as he wandered away from the male to the customer.

Staring out after him, he blinked a few times before bringing the bottle back up to his lips for a sip. He hadn't caught the male's name over the loud crowd so he found himself watching him move about as he tried to put a name to him. It was strange, and Shaun partly blamed it on the alcohol entering his system, that he found the other male attractive. Even though he hadn't drank quite that much yet, he still chose to blame the beer. After all, he was currently dating someone, and a girl for that matter! So when he eyed the other male and was by no means put off by the other's slender physique and powerful air.

Something was familiar about the way he carried himself though. He couldn't quite place it, but he had remembered seeing a walk similar to that before, like with Lucy or what not (1). Deciding not to think much into it, he grabbed the other beer before fishing into his pocket for some money. Setting it on the counter, he gave a salute with the bottle to the bartender. Perhaps he would return here another time.

The bartender held up his hand signaling him to wait as he pointed to a watch upon his wrist and held up five fingers, hoping the other understood him. Getting a nod in response, the bartender finished his shift before he pulled his waist apron off and took off into the back to clock out. Upon emerging again with a backpack slung over his shoulder, he walked over to Shaun and smiled. "I didn't have long left in my shift and I thought it would be nice to talk if you'd like." He offered as they stepped from the bar into the cool night air. Had he really been in there that long?

Shaun raised an eyebrow at the other and shrugged "sure," he agreed "but why, of all people, choose to talk with the random stranger you met at your work?" he asked him, tossing the now empty bottle into the trash can just outside the door.

Running a hand through his hair, messing it up ever so slightly, the bartender shrugged. His hand trailed from his head down his cheek to the scar on his lips as he rubbed a thumb over it once again. "Probably because, out of everyone there, you were the only one not hitting on me." He commented as he couldn't really offer a good enough reason to want to walk with the handsome foreigner.

Shaun chuckled at this and shook his head "A blow to your ego perhaps?" he asked and watched as the other one laughed and gave a soft "relieving, actually." Comment as he shifted his bag on his shoulders.

"You know," Shaun began as they turned to walk down the street, towards the library where Shaun still had some of his things in a reserved study room. "I never got your name."

"It's James" (2) the bartender said, "and you?"

"Shaun." The historian responded as he pushed his hands in his pockets. Shaun found himself looking at 'James' every so often on their walk, listening to him ramble on about something that was of no interest to him at all. 'James' stood, perhaps, an inch or two taller than himself, which was a change from the girl he was currently dating, who was close to half a foot shorter than him, and Shaun found that he rather liked the idea of being shorter. It off set the balance that he had developed with Kate and Rebecca for the longest time. The male was, as he had thought previously in the bar, by no means unattractive. However, when the other glanced over to him and slid him a cool smile, Shaun had to force himself to look away, blaming his thoughts about the other, and how he would look shirtless, on the buzz that filled his head from the two beers he had drank. Man he was such a light weight.

Yes, 'James' was attractive, but the notion of actually _being _attracted to him was disturbing the historian. He could _not _be attracted to him. Just couldn't.

When they arrived at the front of the library, where Shaun had stopped, catching the other male off guard, he gave a light smile. "I better get going I guess, it was nice meeting you James." He said and the bartender stopped to look at the finely designed building before them then over at the other male for a moment.

A sly smile slowly crept on his face as he stepped forward toward the redhead. He hadn't been quite sure why, but since the other had entered the bar, his eye had been captured by him. He hadn't hit on him, which was a strange turn for the male, causing him to be more interested in the man, and by the end of their walk, his thoughts had been swimming with him. He had certainly noticed the stares and couldn't help but feel that, even though he might scare him, it was going to be okay if he did so. He would see the male again.

Almost as if he sensed it coming from the taller male, Shaun leapt forward into his arms, both of them meeting in a sloppy but intense kiss. Pushing him up against the library wall, 'James's' hands placed themselves on either side of the other, keeping him in place as he let his tongue dance upon the other's lip, asking for entry.

When Shaun opened his mouth, the tongue darted in, tasting everything of the other, and exploring the dark crevice. Shaun's hands began to roam the other's torso, one managing to find a smooth piece of skin that stuck out under the hem of his shirt and he began to rub his palm there vigorously. Receiving a moan in return, confirming that the touches were more than accepted, he felt the other push his body against him, allowing their hard ons to meet for a brief, and teasing moment, before he pulled away completely.

Looking at him with half lidded, hunger-filled eyes, 'James' smiled at the other and licked his lips, stopping at his scar before he tilted his head, "It was nice meeting you too Shaun." He said softly, knowing he best draw away now before something were to happen or they were to get caught.

As Shaun watched the male slide from the library's property and down the street, he couldn't help but smile. Weather it was the alcohol or not, he enjoyed it very much. Deciding it was best not to tell Kate, he simply turned around and went inside the library, planning on a time when he could, and most defiantly would, return tomorrow.

…

DMC: Whoo! Another song up! I am so proud of this one! I do have some comments about it though.

The numbers that you see inside the story are little notes that will be commented on down here. So here I go!

I'd imagine that the assassins, and from what I've seen from the games and what not, carry themselves stronger than most. More forward and what not. Since Rebecca is part of that group, I compared Desmond's walk to hers, how they were both powerful, and prominent.

Some of you might know this, some might not, but before Desmond was kidnapped by Abstergo, he ran away from the "farm" and laid low. He became a bartender and was known to never use his real name (They only caught him from the finger print he had to get when he got his motorcycle). Since I am not aware if they said the name he used I simply called him 'James'. It was the first name in my mind, so I threw it in there. It's said with ' ' around it to sort of hint at the idea that it's not his real name.

So I hope you enjoyed! Review and what not if you'd like.

See you soon!


	4. Perfect for Altair

DMC: sorry it took so long, I promise I've been working on it! I just got busy with Midterms, but since Spring Break is in a day, I should be able to post the rest in no time! Thanks for reading! Enjoy!

**Warning:** THERE WILL BE LANGUAGE IN THIS ONE! Also, this is slash (just reasserting that)! You know lemon, yaoi, Shounen ai, fluff, and all that Jazz or so which you call it, so don't get all mad at me when you come to find it is and you don't like it, I warned you ahead of time and if you don't like it you can leave. I gave you warning. So you don't like it to bad. Flames will go ignored and be deleted. They are a waste of my, and your, time. They are not helpful, and I do not care. Like I said, DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ! Also, there will be some language in here, so if you don't care for it, I'm sorry.

…

**Perfect for you – Next to Normal**

_Pairing: Altair and Malik_

…

It was possibly one of the worst ideas on the face of the planet. Not just on the face of the planet, but _ever_ on the face of the planet. There was no real reason as to why the idea was even formulated in the first place, but none the less, it was there. It was there, and it was the worst. However, there was still the chance that it might possibly work. Who would know for sure?

It was growing late in the year and everything had developed into a whole new season, where snowflakes would dance in the wind, frost would hold tight to the edges of windows as if attempting to get into the houses that were kept warm by the light of a fire. All of Jerusalem in itself was a crisp place. The colors around the beautiful town ran along the lines of green, blue, red, white and softer colors in between. Green for the evergreen trees that lined the outskirts of the town, the houses themselves decorated carefully for the long holiday (1), whether it be with candles carefully placed in their holder for Chanukah (2), bows, ornaments, or things of that sort. The sky was a soft, almost purple blue color, littered with clouds that would, every so often, dump their contents of crisp white and blue flakes, each one special in their own way.

Each house was decorated differently with lanterns, ribbon, candles, cards in windows, and even bells on a number of few. Small, silver trinkets that would make the prettiest of sounds when caught in the wind. Street lights, traditional candle ones, had holly and bows and sometimes lights wrapping up their black spines up to the enclosed white illuminator. All decorated and building up to the main area of focus, the temple of Solomon, where it was decorated finely, and littered with just enough snow to leave it in a luminescent glow that radiated around the temple.

Through it all, walking along on the brown and grey stepping stones was one of the most notorious Assassins himself, Altair. He was a tall, slender male dressed in the normal white garb of the brotherhood. His hood, as normal, remained up to shield his face from prying eyes, none knowing that he smiled almost evilly at them as he passed. In his mind, yes they shouldn't kill the innocent, but they were still all expendable. Always would be.

Only one person had known what that face looked like, and that smile. There was no real reason as to why, it wasn't like they were incredibly close or anything, but still. It was perhaps, the very few times when Altair's mind was not on one of his missions and he relaxed, he let himself take down the guard that had developed with the placement of the hood.

In these few times, the other had stumbled upon him, and they had a small moment of understanding, allowing each of them a time to just sit in silence, but not completely alone. A way that left them with no attachments in the end.

That man was currently running to catch him, his arms beating in time with his steps(2), keeping an eye on the man as he rounded a corner.

As he neared the male, offsetting him due to his blue garbs instead of the usual assassin white, he slowed to a walk and tried to catch his breath. "Altair, glad I caught you." He said, knowing that soon as the male got into his mission, he was almost impossible to catch or see ever again till it was finished.

The male looked to the new guy and blinked a few times, "Yes Malik?" he asked softly, his voice low and deep, ringing through the cool air to the other man as he brushed the hair from his eyes.

"I was just hoping to catch you before you left." He responded, causing the other to raise an eyebrow as he watched him curiously. "I mean, I haven't seen you in a long time, since you hardly come by the fortress anymore, always off on another mission so I was hoping to at least talk a little bit before you left again. After all, we are to be working with one another next time." He said, a bit quickly.

He had always watched the male, talked on very few occasions, and idolized the hell out of him. They rivaled in experience, but none the less, he was still admirable, even though he did disobey the creed every so often. So he was always flustered when he talked with him.

"It's crazy, how messed up the place has become from the Crusades, but still, during the most beautiful time of worship, they all come together and find peace." He said as he walked beside the other assassin, looking up at his taller demeanor.

"Um, yes Malik," Altair responded, almost uncaringly "I totally think that's cool, and I care and all but-" he was promptly cut off by the other male who quickly spoke again.

"I love you." He said before his eyes went wide and he covered his mouth quickly. He couldn't believe he had said it, especially to the other assassin, who most likely didn't swing that way, nor cared to ever find someone special in his life at all anyway. So for the strong book worm, Malik, to suddenly say that, it was probably asking to be stabbed.

"Ah," he said trying to think of something else to say and cover up his slip up, god his brother would never see him the same again. "The whole war is insane, there's disease everywhere and death, and destruction is practically become our name, so it's crazy everything can get so ca-lm…" he finished, trailing off as he saw the look on Altair's face.

The male tilted his head slightly, slowing to a stop in the street as he eyed the dark haired male beside him who just continued to ramble on about something that he wasn't too sure he cared about. "This is one fucked up seduction." He muttered before he licked at his scarred lips.

Malik froze at this as he practically could sense that if he took another step he would choke on his words and stumble forward over his own feet.

Sighing, Malik shrugged as he slipped his hands into the pockets of his outer most coat, the blue material on the inside soft to the touch still from lack of use. His fingers were getting colder as the night drew on, and snow slowly beginning to fall once more. White, that's practically all that was around them, white, white, white. A bluish sort of white that came from the pure, untouched snow's shadows. Small glittery pieces flickering rainbows into the eyes of all who looked at them as the fresh flakes began to settle, slowly, probably going to add at least another inch of snow.

"Look, I know you may not care," he began, deciding that he might as well get this out of the way, before their mission together, so it wouldn't be weird between them. It allowed Altair to decide just how he felt about it, giving Malik the chance to accept it, instead of trying to pretend it didn't happen. "Yet I still feel, since I threw it out there; accidently mind you, that I like you a lot, that I have to just explain myself."

Altair knew that something was coming that he wasn't prepared to hear, and probably never would be, so he debated on tuning him out or not, but when he heard Malik say "I am perfect for you" he felt compelled to listen. "I am so much like you, but so opposite at the same time. We are equal in the assassin's group, each as powerful. We both are strong, and I know I would support you in all ways. I am more of the louder nerdier type, caring for my brother and all, and you are silent, but that's probably why I am so drawn to you." He said, trying to think of how to explain it, only finding that, the longer he spoke, the harder it got.

Looking away from the male dressed in white at last, Malik looked down to the white floor, and couldn't help but frown, must everything be so matching to the other male, and remind him of the other's perfect physique?

"I suppose we would be perfect for one another." Altair said after a moment or two. Those moments seemed so long to Malik, but in the end, it seemed as if the answer came to fast, and he just couldn't comprehend what was said. Was that a good thing? A bad thing? Did he feel the same?

"But I'm so messed up Malik, so busy and so tainted by the creed that I don't feel that we can pursue anything." He said after a moment, reaching forward to touch the shoulder of the male gently. It was probably the gentlest touch he had ever given, and the nicest he would ever be, so Malik would have to relish in the moment."I don't want to hurt you." He said before his hand fell to his side once more, resting on the hilt of his sword.

Turning, he began to walk from the assassin, planning on continuing his mission. "Though," he said as he paused, taking a look over his shoulder at the stunned male, "don't take that as any lack of affection." He said softly, a smile playing at his lips as he wandered away, disappearing into the white of the snow, an Eagle, ready to kill its prey, leaving Malik standing, staring off after him dumbfounded, a blush trickling onto his cheeks.

…

DMC: Yes it was short, and totally lacking in anything hot, but still. It might turn out to something more in another song, but for now, it's so innocent. After all, the song is very innocent.

I have a few from that show due to the fact that only one section from my ipod was open (you know how you can sort it according to certain things? Yeah, that's how) and so I don't have many things to stumble upon. None the less, I thought this one fitting for them, before everything began. It will get better, I promise!

Sorry for the lack of any hotness, and for being really choppy this chapter.

So let me explain the notes:

I did a little research as to what is more commonly celebrated there during that time in history, if I happen to be wrong at all, or you can explain more of the holiday to me, like what it looks like and what not, please do as I am not too familiar with it. I don't want to get anything wrong and risk offending someone I never meant to offend in the first place. Thanks

This is set before their event in which Malik loses his arm. As such, here he has both, even if it wasn't mentioned in too much detail here. None the less, please don't be confused by that, I tried to mention it as the story went on, but if you were still confused, I'm sorry.

Thanks for reading! Review?


	5. Always Been There

DMC: Hey guys, welcome back to Expressions in Verse! Sorry it took so long to post this. When I had figured I would have time during break to write all I want and post so much, I was not aware of how wrong I was. I get home and the first thing that happened was I was put to work. I had to clean and reorganize the garage, which, mind you, was insane, SO MUCH STUFF. After that, I had to remove the paint in the upstairs bathroom and repaint it, change all the lights, and fix the shower. After that I had to paint a mural on the backyard wall, and trim the bushes when I was done with that. Now all that is over and I am free to do as I please… break is over…

Yep, that's my luck…

Ah well, I like the mural: D Perhaps I'll show you one time? Who knows?

Anyway, this is the next song. Yet another from Next to Normal (don't worry, I think this is the last one, not positive on that though) and it should be a nice one. So far they've all been bitter sweet, so maybe this one will be steamy? Or maybe, the next?

Either way, here we go!

..

**I am the one (reprise) - Next to Normal**

_Pairing- Desmond and Shaun_

…

Outside beyond the mahogany door that was picked out souly for the fact that it was fine wood, the many sounds and shouts of people began to fill the air as people began their day. It always began, it seemed, at such an ungodly hour in the morning; but now that the historian finally found himself the chance to sleep at night, everything seemed extremely early in the morning.

Sitting up from where he had collapsed on the couch the night before, Shaun looked around his apartment and sighed. The sight was not at all appealing. The place was cluttered, for the normally organized man. Various pictures of historical figures, cut out from all sorts of places, hung over his walls, papers of various facts, books, and random writings were sprawled over various surfaces. It reminded him much too much of work with the assassins. It hadn't ended too long ago, but still, it seemed like so long ago due the fact that now, other than his work at the library, it seemed like there was nothing to do.

Heck, even with his work at the library, it seemed like there was nothing to do.

After all, they spent so long living in the past through Desmond, researching so much, and saving the world, now everything seemed so dull compared to that.

The red head pushed off the couch completely now as he walked to the small kitchen he possessed to make himself some tea. That was a perk of the new living though; he could go into his small, overly cluttered with appliances, kitchen, and make some real tea. He could take his time, heating the water in the dark, now overly used, kettle, wait for the whistle, and make real tea versus cheap microwavable stuff that he had to settle for in the fortress. The fortress that had rightly become his home as this place had yet to feel like. Putting the kettle on the stove, he lit it, leaned against the counter beside it, and sighed.

Pushing off the counter, he wandered into his bedroom to change clothes and make him somewhat more presentable for work later. Peeling his button down shirt and tan sweater off, he tossed it onto the bed and rubbed at his shoulder that was sore from the position he had been laying in most of the night. As he wandered to his nearly empty closet that reminded him of the fact that he really needed to do laundry, he noticed a picture sitting on his desk, long forgotten. Looking to it, he raised an eyebrow.

Right, that was the one Rebecca had mailed to him a while ago. She was currently the only one he kept in contact with since the killing. At first Shaun couldn't believe that Desmond had done such a thing, even though he was being controlled, but after a while, when the world seemed to fix itself due to her murder, and things went back to the way they should, he stopped minding as much. Sure, it did still sit in his stomach kind of like acid. It was the idea that it was there, always there, but it didn't really do much until brought up.

The Templars and Assassins stopped fighting; the world just seemed to settle down, almost in an unnerving way. Though Shaun accepted it, letting it go, and losing touch with so much he had known before, and so many too.

Looking down at the picture, it was of the four of them back when they first got set up in Ezio's old home. Rebecca had been so happy that Baby had been set up in a more stable home than their bus, and they were up and running again. She insisted they take a picture of it, as they did the first hide out they had gone to but had to scrap the photo when they were found, for risk of possibly getting the Templars on their trail much faster.

Lucy was sitting standing behind the animus, holding a clipboard of her current work, smiling sweetly as she leaned in for the photo. Rebecca was kneeling by the red machine, obviously having rushed over there after setting the timer on the camera and setting it carefully on the table. She had a hand on the machine lovingly, and another resting on her knee, that was drawn up to her to steady her strange kneeling position. Shaun was standing on side of the Animus, arms crossed, forcing a small smile as he had been interrupted to take this lousy picture. In the middle of it all, sitting on the animus with his legs folded at the ankles and hands tucked in between his knees slightly disheveled from being told he should be in the middle since he's the "most important" was Desmond.

That male… how to describe him? He could easily describe Lucy, how she was before she died and they had found out all about her, he could describe quirky Rebecca, but to describe Desmond? More than just saying he was an annoyance, there wasn't much he could say about the amateur assassin. After all, he had been unconscious 90% of the time they were together, so he hardly got the chance to know him.

He supposed he could say that he was simply there. Always there.

However, since the killing, Desmond had pretty much dropped off the face of the planet. The male had not lived up to the promise he gave to all of them that he would be there for them. This left an uneasy feeling with the red head, unsure if he had gotten hurt, or killed, or god only knows.

He wasn't quite sure why he was so worried about the male, but he still felt it. That sinking feeling in his stomach, no… not his stomach, his heart, that something in his life was missing. This was a feeling that had stayed with him for quite some time now. Each day, he felt himself talking into the silence, to a male who was no longer there. Telling him of the interesting things he would learn at work when he found some interesting books that he had the pleasure to reshelf. Telling him how nice it was that people were reading, more so when they read something that he, himself, had been interested in.

He had no idea why, but it probably came from the few times Desmond had ever been awake. The only time they talked and held a conversation that wasn't bickering, it was about something that Shaun had found out, and Desmond would sit there, trying to understand it in his always exhausted state.

He was never sure what made the male tired all the time, he sat there in a coma a majority of the time, but he never really pressed it too much. A jab here and there, a joke on occasion, but he still knew that, without him, they would not have gotten as far as they had.

Tossing the picture back onto the desk, with an almost disgusted grunt, he heard the sound of the kettle begin to whistle. Grabbing a clean shirt, he pulled it on and turned to make his way to get the kettle when the whistling stopped.

He froze.

Someone was in the house.

Quickly, as if by instinct, the blood of the assassin ran through him again, and it was like old times again. He had to watch his step as he sneaked from the bedroom, grabbing a knife from where he had it stored by the door, to the kitchen. Sliding around the corner, he felt himself froze as he looked at the sight that lay before him.

It was Desmond.

Or more of, it looked like him. He had gotten a tad taller since they last saw one another, and his hair was no longer trimmed short but now at a scruffy length that he kept in messy spikes. He still wore white, but this time, in a nicer, button up jacket versus the hoodie he used to wear. His legs were tucked into a nice pair of black jeans, he wore some nice shoes, and a red button down shirt under his white coat, bringing it all together nicely, and hinting at the heritage he now held so dear to him. He had kept his stubbly face, the five o'clock shadow apparent on his face. All in all, he looked good, for someone who Shaun suspected to be dead, or on the streets.

Though he wasn't, he was in Shaun's kitchen, making the tea.

Stepping out into the kitchen, now exposing himself, Shaun stared dumbfounded at the male. Desmond looked up and blinked a few times "you left your door unlocked, and you didn't answer when I knocked…" he muttered, his voice a bit deeper than Shaun remembered.

"Desmond?" was all that the historian could muster up to say. Not 'so you let yourself in' or 'where the hell have you been' or something along those lines. Just his name.

"Hi Shaun." Came Desmond's soft, happy reply.

It was a strange moment between them. They stood there, looking at one another, Desmond halfway though making the tea. That was what brought them out of their trance. "Tea?" Desmond offered as he began to make a cup. Shaun shifted in his place and nodded before he took a step forward to lean against the counter, watching the former bartender work.

"Where have you been?" he finally managed to sputter out as Desmond handed him the warm mug that said something lame on the side, like 'Mustachio' or something like that. Shaun never really paid attention to it, he simply bought it because it was cheap, and it was all he could afford at the time.

"I've been around," was his response, lacking of any real information that benefited the male. "Here and there doing odd jobs. I took up bartending for some time, but it reminded me so much of how abstergo came to get me, I got jittery and felt like they were going to come and take me any day, and force me to repeat all those memories once more.

"Then I took up a bit of modeling, since there wasn't much else to do at the time and I knew a photographer who needed someone to model for him so he could add more to his portfolio and get more people to buy his packages. That went well and a few other photographers asked for me. Then I traveled for a bit, wanting to see the places I saw as Altair and Ezio in person." He continued his talk, not really sure if Shaun was paying attention or if he just asked to break up the silence.

Either way, he continued, "after that I got a job as a librarian, and the library shut down." He said, not knowing that it was what Shaun was currently doing "after that, I became a teacher. I figured I learned so much about history now thanks to my ancestors and you, why not?"

"Me?" Shaun cut in curiously as he sipped at his tea, realizing he hadn't added any sugar or cream, so he turned to his cabinets to get some while the other spoke.

Desmond shifted a bit, uncomfortable with the question, as small as it was. It just held so much behind it. "Well, yeah," he began "any time I was back in the real world with you guys, you always told me various things about history, teaching me about stuff."

Shaun glanced over his shoulder at him as he put the cream back into the fridge and raised an eyebrow. "I never thought you listened to me, you never really seemed to care. You more seemed like you just wanted to bother me."

Desmond shrugged "that too…" he muttered before Shaun straightened up to turn and look at him, Desmond couldn't help but smile. He liked when he had the historian's attention. Back then, he discovered he liked it when Lucy told him that they couldn't work out, and Desmond didn't really like her, he was just grateful to her for saving him. He never quite understood what she meant by that, he really thought he liked her, but she saw something he didn't.

She saw that, behind all the bickering that happened between the historian and him, he liked the attention. It was a strange attraction really, but Desmond kept Shaun from going insane and isolating himself completely in his work by giving something for him to bicker at and Shaun gave Desmond a reason to laugh, and come to the real world.

Soon, Desmond picked up on it, that he liked being around the historian, and liked being in his attention, so he continued to let him take stabs. So parting from him was hard. Yes, it was hard to part from the others, but more so Shaun.

It almost was so fast, that it could have been passed as not happening. However, it happened. Desmond had stepped forward to Shaun and planted one on him. Nothing too deep, just a quick peck on the lips before drawing back to gauge the other's reaction.

It took him a bit, to actually react to it properly. At first, he was shocked that Desmond Miles had kissed him, but then it turned to confusion of why, then it turned to acceptance that it happened, soon after it turned to desire to have another one.

It was as if they both understood it, and they grabbed for one another quickly, pulling in for a heated kiss. As Shaun held onto the male, having dropped his tea and now had free hands to do so, he could feel Desmond's tongue slide out and lick at his lips, asking for entrance that he didn't wait for an answer to get. Pushing between his soft lips, he let his tongue feel the inside of his mouth, trying to remember all that he could.

Desmond pushed Shaun backwards, into the fridge, and deepened the kiss. His hands were roaming the other's chest, tracing lines of the other's figure through his shirt. Shaun, in return, was running his hands through Desmond's hair, messing up the spikes more.

Desmond broke the kiss for a moment, catching his breath and leaving Shaun to breathe heavily as he kissed down his neck, ravishing the red head. When he had reached the nape of his neck, he made his way back up, and kissed his lips once more, before the broke their embrace at last.

Both of them stood there, looking disheveled, messed up from the intensity of the kiss, and their eyes full of desire.

"I have to go to work," Shaun said after a few moments, and Desmond nodded.

"I promised I'd go visit Becca." Desmond responded, saying that he was going to leave the city for a while. This caused the other to tilt his head.

"Will you be coming back?" he asked him and Desmond nodded, causing Shaun to smile. He wasn't sure when he had come to terms with the idea that he had imagined Desmond around simply because he really desired to have him there, but he had all the same.

As Shaun straightened himself up, he gathered up his things, Desmond watching him with want in his eyes as he did so. God, he wanted to stay home today. As he gathered his keys and walked to the door, he smiled at the male, wondering if he would be staying there a little longer, or would leave as well. He didn't mind either one. "Welcome back Desmond." He said before turning and walking out.

Desmond stood there, in the other's apartment, staring at the door. Did Shaun really just walk out like that? Trust him that much to leave him there? Or had Desmond really knocked him off his rocker with the kiss?

No sooner had the thought left his mind then Shaun returned through the door, shutting it loudly and dropping his things, rushing over to the man muttering something along the lines of "I can skip work today." and planted a big one on him.

Rebecca could wait, Desmond decided.

..

DMC: There you go! It was ridiculously long! Though I liked it! Had to stop myself before I went on to an intimate scene that would drag this story easily into the 3000s or more! Save that for next time 3

Thoughts?


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